


and death is at your doorstep

by acervate



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Angst, HIV/AIDS, M/M, Post-Canon, perhaps i will write something nice after this, really heavy angst my bad, this is just straight sadness whoopsies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 07:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12882594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acervate/pseuds/acervate
Summary: Pessimistic as it may sound, Marvin is trying to be a realist. His dreams had died with Whizzer, and it seemed that so would he.Instead, they'll confront the truth, and damn it all, they'll make the best of whatever time they get out of it.





	and death is at your doorstep

**Author's Note:**

> hey it's me hayden. i wrote this in like 3 days bc falsettos makes me sad so here you go  
> my tumblr is officialwhizzer :^)

After Whizzer passes, it's like static.  
  
Suddenly, Marvin's big smart brain can't think, can't work, can't do anything. He's consumed by the pain of it all. The thrill of first love has run out, replaced by the grief of lost love. He thought he had gone through it before, first when he discovered that he wasn't in love with Trina, and then when he and Whizzer had broken up. It had been messy and hurt like a bitch, but he thought it couldn't get worse.  
  
But it could. Whizzer is no longer just missing from his life, he's _gone_. There will be no more lazy mornings, passionate nights, or weekends where he and Whizzer helped Jason practice baseball. The love of his life is dead, and despite all of Marvin's intelligence and money, nothing will bring Whizzer back.  
  
Marvin can't think about the illness that took him.  
  
He can't think about the warning that Charlotte had given him; her prediction. Months pass since Whizzer's death, and if the disease had its hold on Marvin, he had no idea. He was sick with grief, laid up in bed as he struggled to find his place in the world once more.  
  
Trina offers him more time with Jason. Part of her will always love him, and she can't bear to see him falling apart.  
  
Mendel offers his services as a psychiatrist. He'd left Marvin hanging after all, and it makes his stomach crawl to see the man in so much pain.  
  
Jason picks up the phone and tries to call his father. Each night, he calls and tries to give Marvin the story of his day, the ever changing narrative of which girl he likes now and why.  
  
So many offers, and yet Marvin accepts none of them. He can't avoid Charlotte or Cordelia, not with them being nosy, caring neighbors. They try to give him dinner each night, only sometimes succeeding.  
  
After a week and a half, his boss demands that he return to work and so he does. He's like a damn zombie going through the day; gets his work done, thinks about nothing, and gets home only to collapse in bed. He changes sometimes, remembers Whizzer's huffiness over wrinkled shirts and creased trousers. But most times, the weight of his grief is too exhausting, and he can only sleep.  
  
He dreams of all the shit he put Whizzer through, of times gone by. He dreams of what could've, should've been. They never talked much about their future or growing old. Marvin was sure that Whizzer would've lost his beautiful hair with age, but god, he still would've been the most stunning man Marvin had ever seen.  
  
After nearly a month, he's dead on his feet. He's lost weight and the bags under his eyes have become permanent. His days drag together, and he frankly isn't sure what the date is when he comes home to find Jason waiting outside the apartment.  
  
Marvin is sure of two things; he hasn't called Trina about Jason coming over since Whizzer passed, and that his son clearly isn't packed for the weekend. Jason had his books and school backpack, and Marvin immediately knows that Trina is probably on the verge of a breakdown from Jason not showing up at home.  
  
"Jason, what--"  
  
Jason hugs Marvin with such an intensity that it knocks the breath out of him. Jason's wiry arms are wound tightly around his middle, his face buried in Marvin's chest and god, when did the kid get so tall?  
  
"You never pick up the phone." Jason accuses him, but Marvin knows what he means.  
  
_I miss you. I'm worried. Where have you been?_  
  
Marvin shudders as he hugs Jason, crouching down and squeezing his son tight. "I know, I know. Sorry, kid."  
  
Jason sniffles and swipes at his eyes. Marvin manages the slightest smile, more emotion than he's given anyone in weeks. He unlocks the door and shuffles Jason inside, rubbing his son's back soothingly.  
  
"I'm gonna call your mother. She doesn't know you're here, does she?"  
  
Jason shakes his head, setting down his bag and books on the table. Whizzer had kept it clean before, spotless so they could eat. Now, it's covered in Marvin's mail and scattered laundry. Still, Jason sits down and stares at the floor as Marvin dials Trina's number.  
  
"Hello?" Trina sounds panicked, and Marvin gives his son a look as he replies.  
  
"It's Marvin. Jason's here with me."  
  
"Oh!" Trina sighs in relief. "I was about to call the police. What on earth is he doing there?"  
  
"Don't know." Marvin snips, suddenly feeling exhausted.  
  
"I can come by." Trina's voice takes on an uncharacteristic softness. "I'll call Mendel, we'll come pick him up--"  
  
"Look, don't worry. I'll bring him back on the 104 after dinner." Marvin looks over at Jason, watches as his son shuffles his feet and stares at the floor. "I'll make sure he gets his homework started."  
  
Trina hesitates, then sighs. "Oh, alright.  Back by eight, please. Tell him I am not happy."  
  
"I think he knows." Marvin absentmindedly twists the phone cord. "Back by eight. See you then."  
  
He hangs up before Trina can say anything else and scrubs a hand over his face. Jason has finally looked up and is watching him, his brows drawn and expression worried.  
  
Marvin walks over and stares down, frowning. "Your mother is pissed."  
  
Jason nods. "I knew she would be."  
  
"What are you doing here then?" Marvin pinches the bridge of his nose. "Jesus, you're 13 Jason, you can't be doing things like this--"  
  
"Are you going to die?"  
  
Jason blurts it out, his voice so small that Marvin almost misses it. He freezes and stares at Jason, mouth hanging open. His hands are limp at his sides as his chest constricts, heart beating painfully on.  
  
“I—“Marvin staggers and sits down in one of the other chairs at the table, running a hand through his hair agitatedly. Jason's eyes are wide with fear, and if hits Marvin like a punch in the stomach.  
  
"Why—“Marvin has to stop and breathe. He inhales painfully. "Why do you think that?"  
  
Jason shrugs and looks away, shuffling his feet again. "I read the papers, even if Mom doesn't want me to. Lots of people like you are getting sick." Jason's eyes are rapidly flooding with tears and Marvin jerks back. "If it happened to Whizzer—“  
  
"Stop." Marvin's voice cracks as he reaches out to take Jason's hand. He scrubs away his tears and sniffles again, his shoulders hunched as he fights against the urge to cry.  
  
Marvin's heart is beating so fast and he feels nauseous as he watches Jason. Standing despite it all, he drags Jason from the chair and pulls him into a crushing hug, burying his face in his son's curly hair.  
  
Jason begins to cry, great heaving sobs that Marvin has only heard once before. He hardly cried when Whizzer was in the hospital, and it was Marvin himself who broke down at the funeral. It had taken two days before Jason had turned inconsolable.  
  
"I'm scared. Please don't die." Jason's voice is muffled, but Marvin hears him clearly. He feels beyond awful; how long has Jason been thinking like this?  
  
Marvin can't bring himself to lie to Jason. He wants to; wants to reassure him that everything will be alright, that he's healthy and that the death that's happening around them has already passed through and gone.  
  
But Marvin knows it's all a lie. Since Whizzer's death, he's seen acquaintances and neighbors begin to fade. Some leave for the hospital and never return. Others are turning into walking skeletons, sickly and pale and dying.  
  
Charlotte had warned him months ago. The disease that took Whizzer was infectious, and it was spreading from man to man. But Marvin knew what she meant by that. Not all men were susceptible it seemed; just gay ones, who had ones they loved and lives to live and people to grow old with--  
  
So Marvin just holds Jason tighter and strokes his hair and rubs his back.  
  
"I don't know kid." He says. "I don't know."  
  
Marvin barely has any food in the fridge, and he's lucky that Cordelia is around. He leaves Jason in the apartment to go see her and take her up on the offer of dinner.  
  
She looks like she's about to cry when she sees him, and Marvin scrounges up a hint of a smile.  
  
"What's for dinner? I got Jason for the evening."  
  
Thankfully, it's nothing too adventurous, and Marvin leaves with some spaghetti and meatballs. Charlotte is going to be home in five minutes Cordelia croons, but Marvin knows Jason wants some time with just him. Despite how shitty this whole situation is, it makes Marvin a little happy for the first time in weeks.  
  
When he comes back inside, Jason has migrated from the table to the living room. He's sitting on the couch holding the baseball from that fateful game. The coach had given it to him after to congratulate him on pushing the team to victory, and Jason had kept it in his room at Marvin's since. Whizzer had helped him practice in Central Park and they'd used the ball each time.  
  
It made Marvin's heart break all over again to watch Jason like this. He looked more scared and unsure than ever before, and it hit Marvin that he wasn't the only one feeling the loss of Whizzer. Jason had adored him; when he wanted an opinion on seeing Mendel, it had been Whizzer that he asked for. He'd invited Whizzer to his baseball game, and had brought his chess set to  the hospital every day. He'd been ready to throw away his whole bar mitzvah if it meant Whizzer wouldn't be there.  
  
Jason looks up at Marvin with tears in his eyes. Throat closing with emotion, Marvin held up their dinner and smiled the best he could.

* * *

  
Trina invites him inside for once when he brings Jason home. The sun has set and the autumn air is brisk, and Marvin knows Trina feels rotten about just sending him off. So she puts on some coffee instead, and invites him to sit with her and Mendel.  
  
Their new house is nothing like the home Marvin and Trina once had. It's more comfortable somehow, more put together. Part of him wants to be jealous, craves the domesticity of it all, but that part of him is exhausted. Nothing in him has healed, and he all but collapses at their table.  
  
Trina notices how subdued Jason is and simply sends him off to his room to finish his homework. He looks ready to argue, but Marvin gives him a firm nod and Jason finally accepts and goes.  
  
They exchange pleasantries until Trina gives Marvin his coffee and they all sit down and confront the problems of the day.  
  
"Why didn't he come home?" Trina asks, her expression drawn with a mix of frustration and worry. "I would've let him go over if he had just asked--"  
  
"He wanted to know if I was going to die."  
  
Neither Trina or Mendel balk the way Marvin had, but their eyes widen and they freeze. Marvin sighs as he takes a sip of his coffee, relishing in the feeling of warmth it gives him. God bless Trina, she still remembers exactly how he took his coffee.  
  
"What did you say?" Mendel asks lowly, and the same question that Jason had pondered is now set in their minds. There's hardly any information about the virus beyond what the community itself is seeing. There's the weight loss, the sickness, and weakness. Marvin's felt it all before, and his weight loss now is without a doubt due to his grief. He isn't sickly like some of his friends have become, but for awhile, neither was Whizzer.  
  
"I said I didn't know." Marvin tells him, warming his hands on the mug. "I really don't know."  
  
The look of devastation on Trina's face makes it hard for Marvin to swallow, and he scrubs a hand over his face again. "I'm not sick. Or at least I don't think I am. But...Charlotte said that it's...infectious. I don't know how, but it's always possible that..."  
  
"That he gave it to you." Trina completes his sentence, and Marvin's heart lurches at the accusation in her tone. He gives her a pleading look and shakes his head. Whizzer was an innocent in this, and whatever happens, Marvin won't let him be dragged under.  
  
He knows that Trina is scared now, that she's still trying to come to terms with the loss. She doesn't want Jason to lose another person he loves, and she could not bear to see Marvin waste away the way Whizzer had. But he loves Whizzer and won't blame him for the virus that already claimed him.  
  
Trina reaches out for one of his hands and grabs it, holding tightly.  
  
"Please," she says, and her voice cracks with emotion. "Stay healthy. See Charlotte if anything happens."  
  
"We're a call away." Mendel promises. "No matter what."  
  
Marvin nods and offers a slight smile. He's long past feeling jilted by their marriage. He's happy for them, honest to God. Trina had always been miserable with him, and even if he'd never loved her, he had loved her as a friend and as the mother to his child. After everything that happened, he only wanted happiness for her.  
  
Marvin wondered if this is what a tight knit family really was. It was peaceful and it was supportive, and it eased some of the pain in his heart.  
  
But did it have to come at such a cost?

* * *

  
Despite the hopes, nothing ever seems to work out for Marvin. He's gay and Jewish; why would he ever get a break in life?  
  
Just under a year passes since Whizzer died, and Marvin begins to get sick.  
  
It starts slowly, just like it had for old friends and for his lover. He'd chalked the initial weight loss up to grief, even after a year. One of the lights of his life was gone, and Marvin was struck by his depression some days. It would leave him unable to leave his bed, clutching Whizzer's old pillow and feeling nauseous with grief. He couldn't stomach reality on those days, let alone a meal.  
  
Besides, Marvin had never been one to cook. He cooked well enough for Jason and himself, though he ordered take out more often than not. Whizzer had been his saving grace before, making dinner with gusto once Marvin stopped forcing him into the role of pseudo-housewife. The kitchen just felt empty now, missing the sound of the kettle going off when Whizzer made tea.  
  
So Marvin skipped meals, lived off of coffee and dinners with Charlotte and Cordelia. He lost weight, the slight softness at his stomach fading. Marvin didn't think much of it at first, simply indulging when the occasional craving struck him. Cordelia always loaded his plate and Marvin ate most of it, and it was the end of that.  
  
But as more people started dropping like flies around him, as the media finally began to report on the disease, Marvin realized that something wasn't right.  
  
It started on a Tuesday with him not feeling well, but it was autumn and the flu was going around like normal. Besides, he only had a cough and a slight temperature. He took medicine and suffered through his work days and sleepless nights. By Friday he felt almost healthy and reassured Trina that he was fine when he picked Jason up. They got pizza and watched movies, and Marvin went to bed happy.  
  
3am rolled around, and Marvin found himself burning up and sick to his stomach, hunched over the toilet as dinner came up again. His head was pounding and he was trembling, sweating and feeling like all the strength had gone from his body.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
Marvin throws up again and gasps for breath, turning to look at Jason through bleary eyes. The sound of his retching must have woken him, and the poor kid looked terrified.  
  
Clutching the toilet, he waves a hand to Jason.  
  
"I'm okay. Get me some water?"  
  
Jason nods and hurries off to the kitchen, missing the sight of his father dry heaving. There was nothing in his stomach at this point, but it didn't stop his muscles from contracting and trying to force even more out.  
  
Jason comes back with a glass full of water and hands it to Marvin, his brows knitted in worry. Marvin doesn't drink any, only sipped and swished it in his mouth before spitting it out. He flushes the toilet and pushes away from it, propping himself up against the wall.  
  
Jason gently shakes his shoulder and Marvin opens his eyes to see him holding a damp washcloth. Marvin takes it with shaking hands and wipes his mouth, groaning as his stomach cramped again.  
  
"Thanks bud." He mumbles. "Go back to bed."  
  
Jason stands looking down at him, still scared witless. "Do you need Charlotte?"  
  
Marvin hesitates, but is suddenly hit with a flash of Whizzer in the hospital, throwing up more than he could keep down. He had been feverish constantly, always freezing. Fear made Marvin's chest tighten, and he finally nods.  
  
"Call first. She might still be working."  
  
Jason nods again and goes to the phone. From the bathroom, Marvin could hear him pressing the buttons and then talking in a rushed flurry of words. He was exhausted, and closed his eyes for what felt like only seconds. Next thing he knew, he was being gently woken by Charlotte.    
  
"Marv, you awake?" Charlotte asks.  He nods slightly, blinking slowly and staring at her. She was in her pajamas, but had a robe thrown on over it. He felt guilty about waking her up, but he knew it would help to put Jason at ease.  
  
"Jason said you got sick? What else is happening?"  
  
"Been feeling ill all week." Marvin mumbles. "Thought it was the flu."  
  
Charlotte put her hand to his forehead and curses under her breath. "Shortness of breath? Cough?"  
  
Marvin nods. "Yeah. Yes. Felt okay earlier. Thought it was okay."  
  
"Oh, Marvin." Charlotte's voice was quiet and so sad that Marvin felt sick all over again, and he lurches forward to throw up. She rubs his back and calls out to Cordelia.  
  
"Go start the car, turn on the heat. He's going to the hospital."  
  
Marvin looks at the doorway and sees Jason, his face white with fright. He was so mature for his age that Marvin sometimes forgot how young he was. Standing there in his pajamas with his hands fisted in his shirt, Marvin wanted nothing more than to embrace him.  
  
As Charlotte and Jason help Marvin to the car, Cordelia calls Trina and Mendel and asks for them to meet at the hospital. She joins them minutes later, slipping into the passenger seat and turning to offer Marvin and Jason an unsure smile.  
  
In the backseat, Jason pushes himself into Marvin's side, holding tightly to his father. Laying his head down on Jason's, Marvin sighs and lets his eyes close.

* * *

  
He wakes up in the morning, groggy and disoriented. It only takes a few seconds for the events of the night to come back and he groans, looking at the stark white hospital room. He's alone, but the chair next to his bed is angled close and there's a cooling cup of coffee and a water pitcher on the bedside stand.  
  
The door opens and Marvin finds himself looking at Mendel. While he doesn't look a mess, his mismatched clothes were clearly thrown on when Cordelia called in the early morning hours. His face lights up when he sees that Marvin's awake and he smiles as he makes his way to the bedside.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Been better." Marvin croaks, wincing at how dry his throat is. "Water?"  
  
Mendel nods and pours some water into a small paper cup. Marvin looks around for the bed's remote and raises the bed to an incline, shifting as his muscles ache viciously.  
  
Handing the cup to Marvin, Mendel hardly lets go until Marvin brings it to his mouth and takes a drink, sighing at the feeling of refreshment. Marvin lets Mendel take the cup back as he closes his eyes, feeling his chest tighten with as his lungs struggled to breathe.  
  
"What time is it?" Marvin wheezes. The blinds are drawn, but bright sunlight was peeking through.  
  
"Uh, 8:37." Mendel replies, looking at his watch. "You've been out since they got you here."  
  
"Jason?"  
  
"At home with Trina. Got him out once Charlotte told him you were doing okay."  
  
Marvin feels his chest tighten again and he coughs, and it feels like fire in his lungs. Covering his mouth, he hacks until his throat is dry and his eyes are watering in pain. Mendel is standing over him, hands hovering as he looks for some way to help.  
  
The fit is over in a minute, and Marvin sinks back against his pillow, still wheezing. He thought his cough had been bad in the days prior; it hardly compared to this.  
  
"Jesus." Marvin lifts a tired hand to rub at his eyes. "You don't have to stay."  
  
Mendel sits back down with a shrug. "It's not a problem, Marvin. Got some coffee," Mendel grimaces when he takes a sip, and Marvin nearly smiles. He remembers the days of disgusting hospital brew that he drank at Whizzer's side. "I'm not tired."  
  
"Bags under your eyes." Marvin counters and Mendel snorts.  
  
"Being a psychiatrist isn't exactly restful. You wouldn't believe the things those yuppies bring to my couch."  
  
Marvin can't help but give a rueful smile. "Worse than a man who divorced his wife for a man?"  
  
"That one wasn't so bad in the end." Mendel says, then his smile drops. "I'm sorry, I—“  
  
"I haven't needed a psychiatrist in 3 years, hardly need one now." Marvin snaps, then swallows heavily. Mendel apologizing makes his skin crawl, but he knows he means well. Looking over at him, Mendel's expression eases with understanding and empathy.  
  
"What do those yuppies got on me?" Marvin asks, and relaxes when Mendel launches into a tirade.  
  
It's still early morning, and he hasn't seen a doctor yet. Charlotte had told Jason that he was doing alright, and even if it was a lie, Marvin didn't want to think about it now. He was still tired, and it was far easier to listen to Mendel then contemplate what his illness meant.  
  
He nods off at some point, and when he wakes again, the room is much fuller. Mendel is joined by Trina and Jason, his son holding tightly to his boxed chess set as he sits in the chair. His eyes are downcast and he doesn't notice Marvin has awoken until Marvin reaches out and lightly touches him. Jason looks up and his face lights up, breaking into a smile.  
  
They spend an hour playing chess until a nurse brings in his lunch. It's bland of course, and Marvin and Jason pick at it with mirrored smiles. Trina and Mendel are good company, and he can't remember the last time he got along with the both of them so well. It makes him forget about his rotten cough, his chest pain, and his exhaustion.  
  
Then Charlotte comes by.  
  
Though she smiles at him and squeezes his shoulder, he sees the tension in her body. He swallows heavily and asks for any news.  
  
Trina makes to leave, but Marvin has them all stay in the room as she speaks. He has Jason sit on the bed with him, holding his son tightly. Mendel and Trina are at his elbow, Trina's hand like a vice around his arm.  
  
Even though Marvin knew what to expect, the diagnosis still hits him like a punch in the gut.  
  
He's got pneumocystis pneumonia, which Charlotte quietly informs him is a sure sign. His immune system is completely shot, and there's no saying how long he has. Charlotte's seen some men last a year now, and she's seen other last weeks.  
  
Whizzer only managed a few months.  
  
Marvin can't lie to Jason about it, he just _won't_. Jason spent the rest of Whizzer's life hanging onto the belief that he would recover, hoping and praying. Marvin had watched how crushed him to have Whizzer collapse during the bar mitzvah, watched as realization set in on what should've been a happy day. He saw the inevitable breakdown two days after, when Jason cried and asked why God had ignored him. Why God had taken Whizzer when he had so much to live for.  
  
Jason is a child, but he is not stupid. Marvin won't lie and let Jason suffer through his hope. Pessimistic as it may sound, Marvin is trying to be a realist. His dreams died with Whizzer, and it seemed that so would he.  
  
Instead, they'll confront the truth, and damn it all, they'll make the best of whatever time they get out of it.

* * *

  
Jason comes by almost every day after school, sometimes with Trina, and sometimes with Cordelia. The chess set has become a permanent fixture in Marvin's room, and after helping with Jason's homework, they play a few games.  
  
It's truly the highlight of his day, as he spends his mornings sleeping and being prodded by nurses. They give him all the antibiotics he can imagine and help him get up and move around.    
  
Marvin knows he's getting worse. Like Whizzer, he's constantly weak and exhausted, and his appetite has fled. He picks at the food the nurses provide, and tries his hardest to eat what Cordelia brings. The pneumonia hasn't gone yet despite the antibiotics, and he's plagued by nausea and a vicious cough.  
  
Despite the fun afternoons, and despite the care, it takes its toll. Within a month he's pale and nearly sickly, his strong arms and broad chest thinning as the disease ravages his body.  
  
Marvin wonders how Whizzer managed to be so kind when he was dying. He didn't fight, only cared about Marvin and their friends and Jason. Even when he was weak and exhausted, he had talked to Marvin for as long as he could, soothed his worries and kissed him.  
  
Marvin can't help but be irritable some days. He hates to fall back into the old anger that had once defined him, but the days of waking up only to stare at white hospital walls or listen to the radio are beginning to wear on him. He's sick of the food, sick of the antibiotics, sick of being _sick_.  
  
The day had not been a good one. Despite his body screaming for rest, he could not fall asleep the night before. He'd laid in bed for hours before forcing himself up. He'd staggered to the window and pushed the blinds back, staring out at the bustling city. He missed going out and feeling alive, missed getting to eat unhealthy food and being able to actually breathe for once. Even with oxygen, the hospital's atmosphere was downright oppressive, the thick scent of disinfectant constantly coating him.  
  
It wasn't until sunrise that he finally made it back to bed and fell asleep, only to be woken what felt like minutes later as the nurses came to tend to him. He talked with Charlotte for only ten minutes before she had to go, and it was back to trying to sleep and staring at white walls.  
  
Marvin hadn't touched his food all day, the thought of eating making his stomach churn. It gave him a headache of course, but he'd be damned if he was going to force down any more pills.  
  
After Trina picks Jason up, Cordelia joins his company. It's only a little while until Charlotte's shift is over, and though she'll be dead on her feet, she never misses a chance to visit him.  
  
Marvin isn't very responsive, but Cordelia doesn't let that stop her from talking his ear off. She tells him about the catering business, about the people she meets, anything she can think of. And while Marvin loves her, and adores her company, his nerve are rubbed thin and getting worse.  
  
Charlotte arrives nearly 45 minutes later, taking Marvin's tight smile in stride and kissing Cordelia's cheek.  
  
"How are you doing?" She asks, and Marvin just thins his lips and inclines his head.  
  
"Still hanging on."  
  
Charlotte really must've had a day, because she takes his answer without question. Since his diagnosis, she had been tending to him herself whenever she could, and though he appreciated it, Marvin couldn't help but yearn for someone else.  
  
There are now multiple chairs in Marvin's room to handle how frequently the whole family comes in. Charlotte pulls one over and sits down with a sigh, beginning her own stories of the day.  
  
Marvin won't tell them to leave. He knows he won't last more than a few months, and he won't deny them any time they want with him. Marvin had felt like breaking down each time he left Whizzer, and he understood the difficulty in leaving him alone.  
  
But even Whizzer had asked for solitude, and Marvin was beginning to understand why.  
  
Charlotte is halfway through a ER horror story when her stomach growls. Cordelia has come prepared, and while the hearty soup would appeal to Marvin any other time, the savory aroma of it settles on his stomach like a vice.  
  
He's so tired of the nausea. His head swims as the bile rises in his throat, and he tries to force it down, taking a deep breath through his nose.  
  
The sound of Cordelia pouring it from thermos to cup is the final straw and Marvin heaves, reaching for the bed pan that has become his best friend.  
  
"Shit, Marvin--" Both of them stand up and Charlotte is back in Doctor Mode, but the sight of their hovering hands is too much for him.  
  
"Stop." He bites out, gagging. There's hardly anything in his stomach, but it doesn't stop him from heaving. "Just go. Leave me alone."  
  
"Marv, honey--"  
  
"I called a nurse. They'll take care of the mess--"  
  
"They might as well let me choke on it!" Marvin snarls, his eyes tearing up as his headache flares. "I don't wanna do this anymore. Just let me go!"  
  
A nurse comes in the room right after, stopping his outburst. He's seen her before but he can't remember her name. She's gentle and kind, and when Marvin finally admits to the pounding headache as she cleans his mess, she swears to be right back with medicine.  
  
Charlotte and Cordelia are silent, both looking and not looking at him. Marvin feels drained again, laying back against the pillow as he struggles to breath around his tight chest and the taste of bile.  
  
The nurse returns with medicine for his headache and some water. Marvin takes it and assures her that he needs no help taking it, and a nod from Charlotte seems to appease her. Marvin takes the pills with a large sip of water, but his throat is still burning and raw. He winces and swallows, setting the cup aside and sinking back into his pillow.  
  
They don't speak for a few moments, until Charlotte breaks the silence.  
  
"Are you in pain?"  
  
Marvin gives a non committal shrug, hoping she'll drop it. "No more than usual."  
  
"Is it so bad that you really can't handle it?" Her voice is a whisper, but it's so raw that she could've been yelling. "Marv, there's still a chance--"  
  
"Don't lie to me." He snaps. "I can hear the nurses. Hundreds are dead. Two died today, here. How long until it's me?"  
  
"We need you, Marvin." Cordelia finally touches him, her hand curling around his thin wrist. "You have time to be with us. We love you."  
  
"Love can't save anyone." Marvin's eyes close and he thins his mouth, trying to keep his emotions at bay. When you had nothing but hours of solitude, it was so easy to think of grief and what had already been lost.  
  
"We know you miss him--"  
  
"No, you don't." Marvin is icy, pulling his wrist away from Cordelia. "I watched him waste away. I watched him die. Same thing is happening to me and I wish--"  
  
Marvin shudders, thinking of his lover's drawn face and shaking hands.  
  
"I wish I'd told him to let go." Marvin whispers, voice trembling. "This isn't a way to live. He lived with this pain because I was too selfish to let go."  
  
Marvin blinks against the rising tears, covering his mouth to hold back anything more. He doesn't want to go, he wants to live and see Jason graduate high school and go to college,  and he wants to see the day where men aren't dying in the streets because of who they love. But he can't live like this, not with this constant pain and weakness.  
  
He doesn't even feel like a person. He's just existing, floating through his final months until his body shuts down. It's more than he can handle, and he can't comprehend how Whizzer did it.  
  
Charlotte rubs his arm, her eyes wet. "He loved you so much." She tells him earnestly. "I sat with him when you couldn't. And God, Marv, he loved you so much. He never wanted you to get sick."  
  
"I know." He shakes his head, and reaches for Charlotte's hand. "But I'd give my life for his any day. It should've been just me, not him."  
  
There's nothing that Charlotte and Cordelia can say to him. Whizzer didn't deserve what happened, and neither does Marvin. They both want him to hold on, to believe that things could get better.  
  
But they both know it won't. Cordelia can't remember how many times Charlotte has come home and just cried, broken down by the constant sickness and its victims. She's a doctor, and yet there's no way to save her patients, not even if it's someone she loves.  
  
They spend the rest of visiting hours simply sitting with him, listening to his grief and wishing that things has been different.

* * *

  
Marvin begins to decline days after.  
  
He's held on for nearly three months at that point. But even with the constant care and medicine, there's no escaping the disease.  
  
The pneumonia returns in bouts, worsening just as it seems he'll get better. He's too weak to leave his bed most days, and Jason cries the first time he sees Marvin struggle to finish a single chess game.  
  
His family rallies together as they had before. It becomes rare that Marvin is ever alone during visiting hours, and Jason offers to stay with him each night.  
  
There's almost a peace in knowing that it'll be over soon. Marvin knows that he can't fight it, knows that there's no getting better for himself. He wants to turn to anger, but the thought of seeing Whizzer again is enough to make it fade. He tries to focus on the small things, little occurrences that manage to lighten his mood. They'll be good memories to part with, stories that'll follow him to the end.  
  
One evening, after Jason has been taken home by Mendel, Trina remains and sits beside him in silence, staring at her hands. Marvin's half awake, drifting between consciousness and dreamless sleep.  
  
"Marv?"  
  
"Hm?" He stirs, blinking and looking at her. Trina has her chin propped up on her hand, gazing at him with sad eyes.  
  
"Do you think it would've worked between us? If things had been different?"  
  
Marvin shrugs slightly, but before he can respond, Trina continues.  
  
"I love Mendel, I really do. I just...wonder what it would've been like. If you weren't lying here, if we had actually worked."  
  
"We tried." Marvin replies. He thinks of the years of trying to repress his homosexuality, of the one time he had gotten drunk enough to get it up and the child that was born from it. He'd gone to the psychiatrist and tried to make it work for his family. But there was no denying who he was, and there was no sense in thinking on what could've been.  
  
"Do you wish you were born straight?" Trina asks, but there's no malice in her tone. Just genuine questioning, a sad sort of curiosity. Marvin smiles slightly and shakes his head.  
  
"I did once. But I met Whizzer."  
  
Trina reaches out and rubs his arm through the hospital robe.  
  
"I can't help but blame him sometimes." Trina admits in a whisper. "If you had met any other man, I wonder if you would still be in this position."  
  
Marvin doesn’t reply at first. He’s come to realize that there’s no saying who gave him the virus. It could’ve been Whizzer yes, but there had been seedy bars that Marvin had gone to that were now nearly empty as the disease spread. Marvin didn’t remember all of their faces, but he knew two were already dead. Whizzer is not to blame, not over this.  
  
“I could never want anyone else.” Marvin finally says, pushing those ugly thoughts aside. “If I was made for anyone, it would've been him."  
  
Trina blinks hard, her throat tight. "I do miss him, you know. Despite all the circumstances, despite everything, I miss him."  
  
Marvin thinks of Whizzer's hand growing slack in his. "I hope that there really is more than this life. I want to see him, Trina."  
  
Marvin blinks rapidly, his chest tight with longing. "I wasted so much time. I regret--"  
  
He cut off, his eyes falling shut as tears welled. Trina grabbed his hand and began to rub warmth into his cold fingers.  
  
"I wish I had never hurt you, but I'd do it all over again to be with him. Again and again, if I got just another hour."  
  
Trina nodded, her cheeks wet with tears. "I'm sorry, Marv."  
  
"I don't want to leave Jason." Marvin whispers. "I'm so damn scared. But I want to let go. I want to see him."  
  
"Whatever happens," Trina promises, kissing his bony hand. "We love you. Until the very end."  
  
Marvin begins to drift off again, feeling as Trina gently wipes the tears from his cheeks. “I wish I could’ve married him.”

* * *

  
Jason comes by the next day and they manage to have a few good hours together. Though Marvin's strength is fading even faster, he feels almost relaxed. Jason shows him the new chess set he'd saved money to buy and they manage a game before Marvin's eyes are too heavy to keep open.  
  
Jason clambers onto the bed and curls into his father's side, holding tight to Marvin's thin arms. Marvin's exhausted, but he talks until he's out of breath. He tells Jason how strong he is, how smart he is, and how much he loves him.  
  
Jason asks for him to play chess with Whizzer and tell him that he's missed. Jason tells his father how scared he is, but he promises to make him proud.  
  
As Marvin's heavy eyelids fall shut, he kisses Jason's head and tells him he already has.

  
The fever returns overnight and makes Marvin delirious. They all gather by his bedside and gently feed him ice chips, listening and not speaking as Marvin calls for Whizzer. He’s pale and shaking the entire time, his lungs growing weaker as the hours go on.  
  
Jason is silent the entire time, laying next to his father on the bed. He clutches Marvin’s hospital gown tightly in his hands, his knuckles white. Eventually, the nurses put Marvin on a ventilator and Jason curls against his father’s front. He cries as often as not, and Trina sits at the bedside, her arms draped across her son and her ex husband. She doesn’t cry in great sobs, but in small soundless pleas.  
  
Despite their sham of a marriage, the idea of love between Trina and Marvin is not so foreign. They had loved one another, and they still do. Jason is proof of the bond they had once shared, the greatest thing to come out of their relationship.  
  
It takes three days for Marvin to pass.  
  
He goes easily by then, sedated and sleeping. Though he doesn't see them, everyone is there. They stay with him until the monitors stop recording, until the ventilator is turned off and his chest falls one last time.  
  
He's buried next to Whizzer, the December air freezing around the remaining members of the tight knit family. It isn't the only funeral that day, and there are other plots around them that speak of the devastation of the disease.  
  
The holidays pass by somberly, and they try to live in such horrible times. But it’s damn near impossible; the hole that was left by Whizzer is ripped open again by Marvin’s passing, and the pain of it all is overpowering. The news is flooded with stories and they all see people dropping like flies. Weeks pass and Trina once again finds the scalpel she once had up her sleeve. It’s a close call, and the family is on the verge of collapsing within itself.  
  
But they recover. Jason visits the cemetery at least once a week, and tells the headstones the important news in his life. Home runs in baseball turn to his first date and to graduation. He grows, he matures, and he doesn't forget the love that Marvin and Whizzer had shared for him, and for each other.  
  
Charlotte retires early, too shaken by the loss of the 1980’s to continue on in medicine. Together, she and Cordelia open up more than just a catering business run out of their apartment, and their small restaurant is a local favorite.  
  
Trina gets help that Mendel can’t give. Her psychiatrist is a lovely woman, and months later, Trina begins to smile as freely as she once did.  
  
Years in the future, Cordelia and Charlotte would marry, and Mendel and Trina would grow old together.  
  
They watch as the epidemic grows, as it’s confronted, and as it slowly begins to be controlled.  
  
Jason makes a family of his own and little by little, their band isn’t so teeny tiny anymore.  
  
Together, they live the lives that Marvin and Whizzer had deserved. Good memories are shared over drinks, and toasts are made to the unlikely lovers that had gone. Together, they comfort each other in their grief, and keep the memories alive.

If love can tell a million stories, then together, they’ll make sure that Marvin and Whizzer’s is one of them.


End file.
